His Little Angel: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance

by April Lust

Even though I was angry at Isabella, I was sick of hearing this shit about her. “That’s enough,” I said flatly. “You’ve been really helpful. Thanks.”

  The pimply cook returned with a boy who could have been his twin. “This guy wants to ask you some questions,” he said as he shoved the other teenager in front of me. “About some guys in the alley the other day.”

  “I saw some guys in the alley the other day,” the busboy repeated. “Um, I think they were both wearing black. No! One of them was wearing a hat, a grey hat. And a scarf with a checker pattern on it. And the other guy had a gold watch,” he finished, obviously proud of himself.

  “That describes, like, half of the men in Morris,” the brunette snapped. “You don’t have anything more useful than that?” She looked at me, as if to say, “I’m with you, here. I’m trying to help you.”

  “Seriously,” I muttered under my breath. “No fucking wonder you don’t get a lot of business, with those observational powers of yours.”

  The kid blushed. “Can I go now?” I watched as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, hopping like a nervous bird in the nearly-deserted room.

  I nodded. “Fine,” I snapped. “Thanks for your help.” I rolled my eyes. Fucking kids, they were too goddamn busy staring at their smartphones to look for anything. No wonder the world was turning to shit. No one paid attention to anything anymore.

  The brunette stared at me as I finished the rest of my drink. “Why are you looking for those guys? What’s it to you?” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “None of your business,” I replied smoothly. “How about another one of these drinks?” I held up my glass. “Another double.” I wasn’t drunk yet, but the warm feeling of alcohol was the only thing that felt soothing in this fucked up world.

  She poured a generous amount into the glass. She hopped up on the bar and looked at me with her dark, shining eyes. She was hot, yeah, but she looked like a thousand other girls out there. She was no Isabella, that was for sure.

  “So,” she purred. “I get off in a few minutes. Wanna hang around and wait for me to finish up? I could use some company tonight.” She raised her eyebrows at me and shifted her body from side to side. Even though she had a great body, something felt like it was missing. There was none of the chase, none of whatever it was that drew me to Isabella. This girl would let me fuck her and then she’d leave before I told her to get out. She wouldn’t look at me with longing; she wouldn’t ask to stay the night. She was used to getting a lot of action, and I could tell it was usually on her terms.

  I stared at her. She was sexy: tiny, pert breasts, toned stomach, round, juicy ass. I could tell she’d be great in bed, a little minx that would let me do whatever I wanted with her. But somehow, the urge wasn’t there. It was like my sense of lust had vanished and disappeared from my body. This was unusual for me. Even when I’d had a lot of shit going on in the past, I’d never lost the urge to fuck a beautiful woman, especially not when she was offering. As I watched, she pushed her lips into a pout and parted them slightly. I tried to imagine her sucking me off. The image didn’t even make me stir. She was nothing, a nobody. Whereas Isabella…God, Isabella. Just thinking about Isabella, even though I was pissed at her, was enough to get me rock hard. She had a great body, and that mouth…I shifted in my chair so the brunette wouldn’t see my erection.

  “So,” she repeated. “What d’ya say?” She winked at me and nudged her tiny breasts together.

  My head was filled with uninspiring images of her in bed. I shook my head and passed the empty glass towards her on the bar. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m going home alone.”

  Chapter 15

  Isabella

  After I hung up with Tammy, I rolled over in bed. Zane hadn’t come back in the middle of the night, or if he had, he’d left me alone. I thought the morning light would make me feel better, but oddly enough I felt worse. Even though I hadn’t eaten since before the pizza, I was nauseous again. I spent a good twenty minutes in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet, waiting for vomit that never materialized.

  Since Zane hadn’t shown up, I figured he wouldn’t mind if I took a shower. He had a luxurious bathroom; the whole thing was black and dark grey marble, with streaks of gold running through it. The counter was blessedly cool against my hot skin. When I stood sideways in the mirror, I thought I could see the faintest hint of a belly showing on my frame. The image filled me with a mix of anticipation and horror. I had no idea what was going to happen next, but I was already starting to feel protective of my baby. I couldn’t believe I’d discussed abortion so calmly with Dr. Jennings. As the seconds ticked by, I realized I’d never be able to go through with it. Even the idea of having the baby and then giving it up for adoption seemed unpalatable. I didn’t know if Zane would want a family, but I knew I couldn’t abandon my baby.

  “Even though you were not exactly expected, you’re no less dear to me,” I murmured to my stomach, running my hands over my bare body. My belly wasn’t the only thing that was changing; my breasts were bigger, heavier. They swung like pendulums from side to side when I walked naked, and I had to cradle them because they were sore. I realized not wearing a bra was exceedingly painful and I winced. I hated wearing a bra, and the idea of having to wear one for nine months straight wasn’t a pleasant one.

  I turned on the water in the shower and watched Zane’s big bathroom mirror as it fogged up, obscuring my naked body. The steam was relaxing but the water hurt my tender skin, feeling like small pellets raining down on my sensitive breasts. Finally, I turned around so my back was in the spray and covered my nipples with my arm. Closing my eyes, I relaxed and let the water wash away all of the stress that had hit me over the past twenty-four hours. It seemed like a week had passed since Zane rescued me from those assholes at Maison Bridges. I still couldn’t believe they’d grabbed me. I shivered with fear as I remembered what it felt like to be helpless and alone. If it hadn’t been for Zane, I could be locked up in a basement somewhere.

  Or dead, I couldn’t help but think. I might be dead and cut up into pieces on the side of the road. If Zane hadn’t saved me…

  “Stop it,” I said out loud. My voice echoed off the glass walls of the shower. “There’s no use thinking like that, and you know it.”

  Finally, I got out of the shower and toweled off. There was still no sign of Zane. The more time went by, the more relieved I felt. Maybe he’d never come back, maybe I’d never have to fight with him again. But deep down I knew that wasn’t true. He couldn’t stay away forever. I was angry with him, and I knew he was angry with me. We probably just needed a lot of space from each other.

  Gathering my stuff, I cautiously opened the bedroom door and padded downstairs. There was no sign of Zane, but I heard a television on low towards the back of the house. Carefully, I crept along the floors, trying not to make any noise. I heard the snoring before I saw Zane camped out in a chair with his head thrown back and his mouth open. He was wearing the same clothes as he had last night. Suddenly, I knew he must have come back and found me asleep.

  “Ahem,” I coughed. Zane didn’t stir. I coughed more loudly and finally his eyes flew open.

  “Jesus Christ, Isabella, you about gave me a heart attack,” Zane grumbled. He rubbed his chest and then yawned, covering his mouth with his other hand. “What’s up?” He eyed me up and down. When he saw my bag hanging at my side, he started shaking his head. “Oh, no,” Zane began. “You’re not leaving, Isabella. Ain’t no way you’re leaving here.”

  “I already called a cab,” I lied. “I want to be alone for a while.” I swallowed hard. There was a lump in my throat that had been there since our fight yesterday. For a moment, I thought I was going to cry again but the urge thankfully passed.

  “No fuckin’ way am I letting you leave,” Zane grumbled. He got to his feet and I was again shocked at the sheer size and bulk of his body. “Get back upstairs, Isabella. You ain’t safe out there.”

  “It’s Morris,” I snapp
ed. “I’ve lived here my whole life and nothing bad has happened. You know that, asshole.”

  “Come on,” Zane said. “Don’t be stupid, Isabella. What if those guys come back to look for you? It would only take a few seconds and then poof, you’re gone. You can’t be an idiot like this.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not being an idiot,” I snapped. “But I can’t stay here. We’re just going to keep fighting and I don’t want to deal with that.” I crossed my arms over my chest and hugged my body protectively. “It’s bad for me and it’s bad for the baby, and you know it, Zane.”

  Zane blinked at me. He let out a long sigh. “You need to listen to me, Isabella. I’m not always gonna be there to get you out of trouble. You know that, deep down, but I’m asking you to really internalize it. If you get in trouble, it’s not like I have fucking radar that can tell me what’s happening. We both got lucky the other day. The next time, I don’t think you’re gonna be so fucking lucky.”

  The words stung, but I didn’t want to listen to him. I was sick of Zane, and the way he acted like he always knew better than me. He didn’t know shit! It was because of him that I was in this mess in the first place. He wanted to get his dick wet and now I was up shit creek without a paddle.

  “This is all your fault,” I snapped as I turned on my heel and walked out of the room.

  Zane didn’t make a move to follow me. When I got outside, I regretted my decision for a moment. The weather was cold and blustery and goose bumps immediately broke out all over my body. I called for a cab on my phone and sat on the front stoop until one pulled up in front of the house. I groaned when I realized it was the same cabbie who had picked me up before.

  “You look familiar,” he commented with a wry grin as I slid into the backseat of his car. “Trouble again?”

  “Just take me home,” I snapped.

  The lump in my throat was getting bigger with each passing second and I was afraid I was going to start crying. It felt totally different leaving Zane’s house this time. Before, I’d been filled with the hope that he’d call me again, that he’d take me out on a real date, that we could have some kind of relationship together. But now, I never wanted to see him and his smug fucking grin ever again. I didn’t care about what he thought; there was no way anyone could be out to get me. I was just Isabella Bianchi, single waitress and failed singer. The thought made me want to cry all over again, and I bit the inside of my cheeks and stared out the window at the mindless, passing road.

  When we got home, I realized I couldn’t pay the cab driver. I didn’t have any cash on me, and I barely had any money in my checking account.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, showing him the inside of my empty purse. “I don’t have anything. I can’t pay you.”

  The cabbie rolled his eyes. “Well that wasn’t a free fuckin’ ride,” he shot back. “Where am I supposed to get paid?”

  Tears welled up in my eyes again and I turned away, running towards the apartment building. I was ashamed of how I was acting, but I honestly couldn’t help it. I had no idea being pregnant was going to make me so emotional. I didn’t know how I was possibly going to get through the next nine months.

  I was breathless as I ran up the stairs. When I saw my apartment, my blood ran cold. The door was slightly ajar, like someone was inside. Swallowing hard, I pushed the door open.

  “Hello?” I called out loudly. “Who’s there?”

  No one responded as I let myself inside. It was dark — none of the lights were on and the blinds were drawn shut — but after my eyes adjusted, I jumped a foot in the air. The apartment had been burgled; everything was a complete mess. Drawers had been yanked out of furniture and dumped upside down. The contents of my pantry and fridge had been ripped to shreds and dumped all over the kitchen floor. The fridge door was open and I could hear the power humming. Inside, melted ice cream dripped down from the open freezer door. The air smelled like stale food and pickle brine; when I stepped closer, my foot made contact with a broken jar. There was glass everywhere. Someone had left the oven open; when I peered inside, I saw loose feathers.

  My sense of horror was growing by the second. I closed my eyes before pushing open my bedroom door, fearing the worst. Inside, the mess was worse than the kitchen had been. My bed had been ripped apart and someone had slashed the mattress all over. Chunks of stuffing and springs showed through my bed, and the pillows were ripped open. Feathers led a trail from the bedroom to the hall.

  I was horrified. The damage was atrocious. Who had done this? And why? Tears dripped down my face as I shoved a pile of ripped blankets to the side and sat gingerly on the edge of the mattress. The more I looked around, the weirder things looked to me. I could tell nothing had been taken. My computer featured a giant crack in the monitor, but it was intact. Same with my television and the few appliances I had in the kitchen. It was a disaster zone. Almost everything I saw was ruined. When I went into the bathroom, I cried out. The water had been turned on in the shower and everything from the counter, including my makeup, was soaking in a greasy pool in the tub. The tears came harder and I sat down on the cracked toilet seat with my head in my hands. I had no idea why someone ever would have done this, but I knew there was no way I’d be able to afford the necessary repairs. The apartment was trashed; it wasn’t even habitable. I’d have to call maintenance and get them to cover over and fix the appliances before I could start cleaning up.

  It was obvious someone had wanted to tell me something. But what?

  “Why couldn’t you assholes have left a note?” I muttered, standing up and kicking an empty roll of toilet paper to the side. “Instead of just ruining all my stuff.”

  There was a rustling noise from the other room and I practically jumped out of my skin. The fear came rushing back tenfold as I realized I hadn’t checked all of the closets. Whoever had done this could possibly still be in the apartment, which would make it really easy for him to grab me. I shuddered and forced my legs to walk outside.

  With trembling fingers, I dialed Zane’s number. Please pick up, please, please!

  “What?” He answered on the first ring but his voice was snappish.

  “Someone broke into my apartment,” I said in a shaky voice. “Someone got in and ruined everything inside. They wanted to hurt me!”

  “Hold on,” Zane said. “I’m coming over. Don’t fucking move, you understand me? Stay outside of your apartment, where the neighbors can see you. Don’t go inside, and don’t go into the parking lot. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  He hung up. I held the phone to my face for a long time, listening to the empty dial tone. I didn’t want to admit it, but Zane had been right. Something very, very bad was going on. I had a feeling this was just the beginning of it. And to make matters worse, I had no idea why I was being targeted. Had someone seen me with Zane? Those guys who had a plan to take him down?

  I shivered, hugging my arms across my body and holding onto my torso. Come on, Zane, hurry up, I urged. Please hurry.

  Chapter 16

  Zane

  “Fuck!” I yelled, slamming my foot into the wall and kicking hard. I couldn’t believe it; Isabella had barely been gone for half an hour before I got a hysterical phone call. I couldn’t keep dealing with this shit; it was going to make me old before my time. If only she’d listened to me, if only she hadn’t fucking left when I told her to stay! God damn it, Isabella, I thought in frustration. You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, woman.

  As quickly as I could, I dressed in a button-down shirt and grabbed a jacket from the hooks by the front door. It was cold outside, and Isabella had only been wearing a thin shirt when she’d left. I couldn’t reconcile the strange blend of emotions I felt towards her; it was a weird mix of anger and the urge to protect her. I was still furious at her for not telling me about the baby, but that was rapidly getting swept under the rug. Together, we had bigger fish to fry. And I would have bet anything those fish hadn’t even started to bite on the line yet.
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  Isabella lived in a rundown complex outside of the Morris town limits. I’d been there before and I didn’t think too much of the area; it was probably fine for a single woman, but a woman as fine as Isabella should have been watching her back. Driving over there now, I wondered when the attack had occurred. She’d been with me for over twenty-four hours, and I knew how much time she spent working. It could have been days ago, right after she was grabbed at Maison Bridges. That frightened me, made me believe those guys were out to get her from the beginning. Someone was obviously trying to fuck with her, and they were doing a hell of a job.

  A few years back, I’d had a girlfriend, Maria. I’d cheated on her and fucked around a lot, and she got pretty fucking sick of it eventually. I caught her hooking up with a guy from another local family business one night. I was angry, but I’d known the relationship was over anyway. She’d been pushing me for marriage and kids and I just wasn’t at that point in my life. Hell, I was at the point in my life where I thought I’d never be ready for that domestic shit. But Maria hadn’t listened; she’d always been pushing me for more. And when I said no, she started getting dick from some greasy Italian asshole who wore a thick gold chain around his neck and had more chest hair than a gorilla.